I Have Enough
by green-blooded-computer
Summary: Doctor McCoy struggles with depression and his feelings for a fellow crew member. Rated M for later chapters. Warning: Violence and Angst.
1. Chapter 1

A single drop of red hit the thin carpet below, soaking into the fabric and creating a tiny, crimson spot. Leonard glared at the mark on the floor, jaw hanging limp, eyes squinted as he struggled to stop the room from spinning. Somehow, through the fog of alcohol and self-hatred, the medical part of his brain kicked in. He needed to stop the bleeding. Another drip. Another. There was a puddle forming on his Starfleet order, muck-brown carpet. He blinked wearily. Was that _his_ blood? He nearly jumped out of his seat as his frost blue eyes made their way over to his arm. The sight was enough to nearly shock the alcohol out of his brain.

His left hand was loosely balled into a fist facing the ceiling and the underside of his arm was exposed to the sweltering air, glistening with the smooth, red substance. It was his blood. He had cut his arm. How had he forgotten? Suddenly, his right hand loosened and he dropped the knife he hadn't known he was holding. He cut himself. He had _cut_ himself. He…

Leonard choked a moment, just barely stopping the bile in his throat. The room was spinning a million miles a second and he took hold of the wounded arm tightly to stop the bleeding. He was a doctor, damn it, he knew what to do. Blue eyes frantically scanned the room for a towel, but all he could see was an empty bottle of Romulan Ale and a glass that seemed to be mocking him from the table. He tightened his grip.

Jim had told him not to drink so much. Made him promise. Leonard had given his word, as always, then locked himself away in his quarters for the night. He'd felt so numb. Wound up so tight he thought he would burst. And no number of stolen anti-depressants were going to make him feel any better. But the alcohol…it helped him relax. But it couldn't help him _feel. _All he wanted was to feel alive and to know that he was still in there under the layers of disgust and nothingness. He wanted to feel something, _anything. _So he had taken his grandaddy's knife and just-

What was he, a melodramatic teenager? He was cutting himself? If he had cut just the wrong place he could have died and then where would he be? Leonard lowered his face to his arm, catching his shoulder on the table to keep from toppling to the ground. He needed to find that artery. He needed to know that he was _not _going to bleed to death.

He couldn't see straight enough. He couldn't remember which one it was or where it was and, after a few minutes, he couldn't even remember what he was looking for. The puddle was growing and now his pants and shirt were covered in the hot liquid as well. The room continued to spin and he shoved up three times before he was able to stand, stumbling in his place. Liquid dripped down his face and he wondered vaguely if it was sweat or blood as he noticed for the first time how hot it was. So hot. Hot as Vulcan. Hot as…

No. That green-blooded computer was the reason he was like this. Part of the reason anyhow. There was nothing logical about him drinking, as he was so often reminded. There was nothing logical about his human temper or his southern speech or his scattered thought-process or his unorthodox medical work and nothing he ever did was logical enough for that damn, inhuman, ungrateful…

Suddenly Leonard faltered. His shoulder hit the wall with a _crack!_ and his body shot forward just as the vomit escaped his throat. The bile and alcohol hit the floor and Leonard used his last bit of strength to stumble over it and land on his knees below the comm. Still clutching his arm, he forced one eye open to examine the damage. Through the dim lights he could see that his skin was pale and translucent. His breath was no longer normal and he was losing energy fast. "Sp…Spock…" he stuttered as his head hung down to his chest.

Leonard pulled together his last bit of strength and stretched a hand above his head until his finger slipped over the white button on the communicator. His head hit the wall just as the chime sounded and he slid to the floor croaking one word. "Spock."


	2. Chapter 2

He heard the hum of the engines first. At night, when everything was completely still, and everyone in his part of the ship was asleep during gamma shift, Leonard would listen to the engines humming through the walls as the Enterprise drifted through space. It was a sound that he was so used to that he barely realized it was there anymore. It was only when he was alone in his bed, deep in thought, that he could hear the low tones of the motors so many decks below - like the pulse of a great beast. It was because of this sound that he knew he was in his quarters and not in Sickbay where the insistent beeps of the biobed would have drowned it out.

Whoever had found him should have brought him to Sickbay. He had been crumpled in a pile on the floor covered in blood and whatever idiot found him thought it would be okay to just stick him back in his bed and be on their way. He had to admit that he felt much better. He was no longer drunk, but there was a slight burning in his chest from the vomit. The dull ache in his arm was expected, but he didn't feel any blood, so he imagined someone must have cleaned him up. But to take medical duties onto themselves? "Damn, stupid, irresponsible-"

"Doctor?"

Leonard's mouth snapped shut at the sound of his title. There was someone else in the room with him. That voice. Words like lead that dropped to the pit of his stomach and made his head spin in the same way chocolate mousse was delicious but too much to handle. He could almost taste the bittersweet logic in the air. With some difficulty he opened his eyes to see a pale, almost glowing figure sitting at the foot of his bed.

"Spock."

His voice was crackling and his attempts to sit up were failing him immensely. What in God's name was that damn elf doing here? Leonard could feel the anger boiling up inside of him. He didn't want to be seen like this. He didn't want Spock to be the one to see him bloody, drunk, and depressed on the floor of his quarters, pathetic and disgusting. He allowed his eyes, blood-shot red contrasting the blue pools, to drop to the darkness of the floor.

"I received your call and came as requested," Spock continued, remaining as calm and collected as he would have if they were chatting over coffee. "You were in need of medical assistance and I assumed you would have been reluctant to go to Sickbay." Leonard's eyes shot up to meet Spock's. As he opened his mouth to snap at the other man about the safety hazards of his actions, Spock continued. "I assume, Doctor, that you would have been embarrassed. You would, of course, have called Sickbay in the first place if you had wished to be there." Leonard blinked at him. He didn't remember calling anyone let alone specifically avoiding Sickbay. But Spock was right. He wasn't sure he could handle it if he had woken up to a disgruntled Chapel and a puppy-dog-eyed Jim while the rest of the medical staff doted on him.

Leonard looked down at his arm, which was wrapped neatly in bandages. The blood was gone from his hands and his plain black undershirt seemed to be clean and dry which meant Spock had changed his clothing at some point. He groaned loudly and was met with a curiously perked eyebrow.

"You fixed me up," he drawled, the slight pounding in his head getting louder by the second. "Why…why did you do that?" After a few moments of silence, Leonard brought his eyes to Spock's face again. The Vulcan remained unblinking, his reaction never leaving its original, serene expression, but Leonard could feel the tension in the room. Guilt began to eat away at his insides. Something told him Spock was not particularly happy about having to come to his rescue. "You're mad at me?" he whispered.

"I do not get angry, Doctor," Spock replied, matter-of-factly. He stood, causing the bed to shift. Leonard's eyes followed as the Science Officer came to stand by his side. Though Spock remained ever calm, the closer proximity was terrifying and the Doctor tried once more to shift away from him. "However," he continued, his silk voice making Leonard flinch, "This destructive behavior cannot be tolerated. It is a danger to both you and the crew. If there were a medical emergency-"

"If there were a medical emergency M'Benga would be able to take care of it. I'm allowed to drink on my time off."

Spock waited an eerily long time before responding. This gave Leonard plenty of time to regret opening his mouth. He was the Chief Medical Officer. His main concern was the health and safety of every member of the Enterprise crew, not getting trashed during Gamma shift.

"And what of your health, Doctor?"

Leonard sighed. He didn't want to answer. He didn't want to say that he didn't give a shit about his own safety, that he'd be perfectly fine if he slowly disintegrated in a painful blaze of alcohol and fire. But with those stern brown eyes tracing his every feature, he had to say something. "I am fine." Weak.

"You are not _fine_. You are ill." Leonard perked an eyebrow now. Was it possible that there was just a little bit of emotion behind that statement? If he had been feeling his normal self, he would have poked fun at Spock for saying such a thing, but at that moment he felt as though it was the only thing he could hang on to. Even if Spock wasn't worried about him, pretending he was could at least help ease the pain. But, as seemed to be the trend with the good Doctor, the denial escaped his lips before he could even think about them.

"Look, Spock, all I did was drink too much. Sorry I bothered you. I can handle myself." As the words left him, he knew he was in for a scolding. And the illusion of concern was difficult to maintain when Spock's coolness was seeping through every body movement and word he expelled.

"This episode was not a bout of irresponsible drinking, Doctor," the Vulcan said in such a professional tone that Leonard actually growled in frustration. "You injured yourself as a result of psychological and physical neglect. If you continu-"

"Alright! Alright!" Leonard waved his hands in the air, ignoring the pain that shot through his left arm. "You don't have to lecture me on how to take care of myself. I'm a doctor, damn it, I know how to stay healthy." He crossed his arms over his chest and glared up at his superior officer.

Spock fell silent for a moment before folding his hands behind his back and saying. "I do not believe you do." He then turned on his heel and marched toward the door. Leonard stared intently at his bed sheets for desperate fear of his eyes wandering places they were not meant to go. Guilt and anger had his face turned a bright red, but he didn't have the energy to fight. Not yet.

He heard the door slide open and then silence. Curiosity got the better of him and he looked up to see Spock standing in the doorway, his eyes definitely softer than before. Leonard felt his face blush a deep read and he shrunk back into his pillow. He opened his mouth to say something, but, for once, could think of nothing to say.

"Think of Jim," Spock said, his voice cracking slightly. And after a moment more of blues eyes locked on brown, the Vulcan spun around and exited the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to everyone who has read! Reviews and suggestions are welcome!

To answer a message from last time:

SponesShipper - I'm glad you could see my intent clearly! I do ship KSM, but this is a Spones fic through through! Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Practiced fingers prodded gently at the underside of his forearm. He hadn't nicked the artery, but he had been close. If he had gone in from another angle, he wouldn't have survived the night. Grumbling, Leonard replaced the bandages with new ones, glancing nervously toward his office door. He was there against his better judgment. The doctor in his head told him he should be lying down and gathering strength, but he didn't want to get caught without the proper supplies. He couldn't risk calling for help again. So he'd snuck down to Sickbay when he knew there was a good chance the senior staff was on the bridge. He braced himself for a verbal attack by Nurse Chapel, but found Sickbay to be empty and silent.

The lights in his office were brighter than he remembered and he had to squint to see properly. The cut was deep and nasty. _Looks like those surgeon hands don't work too well when I'm wasted_, he thought grimly, wrapping the last of the jagged line in blinding white gauze. He only had a few minutes to gather supplies before he'd be on the floor again. He ripped off the medical tape with his teeth and slapped it over the wound with a hiss. No time for pain now. He ran over to the supply closet and started digging. More bandages? Check. Hypos? Sleep aid, check. Nausea meds, check. Pain reliever, check.

His hand stopped inches from the bottle's surface. The secret stash he kept in his office. If he took it, nobody would know it was gone. The last of the Saurian Brandy would be able to get him through the night, though it would absolutely wreck his insides. He snatched the bottle from the shelf and turned to make his escape.

"Leonard McCoy."

Suddenly, he was face to face with one of the most terrifying sites he had ever laid eyes on.

"C-Christine."

Nurse Chapel was not a dainty woman. Gorgeous, yes, as the moon over Georgia, and build like a brick shithouse. And she was a hard woman to intimidate. She could have probably beated Leonard in a fight and in his condition she could wrestle him to the floor with one arm. He thought about running, but he knew he wouldn't make it very far. As a natural reaction, his eyes snapped to the door and in a second she had snatched the bottle of Brandy into one hand and taken his good arm in the other.

"Sit down…" she commanded, dragging him gently to his office chair and sitting him down. She was just as bright a medical officer as he was and he knew she'd have no trouble seeing something was wrong with him, even without the stocks of medical supplies in his hand. "Leonard, what is wrong with you?" she asked as she fussed over his newly places bandages.

"Don't touch it!" he hissed at her, pulling his arm away with a small gasp of pain. "I just put the bandages back on! You wanna give me an infection?" Of course, infections were rare to none with the medical equipment they had, and absolutely nothing would have happened if she'd removed the bandage, but he needed to make a distraction. "I had a bit of an accident last night and scraped my arm is all, stop fussing, Christine, sweet Jesus." He avoided her eyes specifically. Chapel had a way of coaxing life stories out of patients and Leonard did not want to break down. Not here. Not to her.

She grumped, crossing her arms over her chest. He could feel her glaring right through him, like he was a child being scolded for staying out too late. "Leonard you have looked worse and worse over the past few weeks. I don't know what's going on with you, but if you don't shape up I'll have to file-"

"I know, Chris," he said, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm fine just…just tired is all." His eyes flicked up to the photo on his desk of a small girl with curly brown hair. The familiar sickening pain welled in his stomach again and he quickly looked away. "Look, I'm gonna go back to my quarters to lie down for a while. I'll take the day off and…be back next Alpha shift." He knew Spock had already told Jim he'd be out for a while, though he prayed to God he didn't tell him why. Christine put a hand on his shoulder - a gesture of sympathy. He ignored it and quickly made his way out the door.

Once in the corridor, he couldn't get the image of Spock out of his mind. That stupid green-blooded goblin was probably doing his work like every other damn officer on the ship, acting as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't found the ship's Chief Medical Officer lying in a puddle of wasted hope and dreams and blood just hours before. As if he hadn't felt the doctor's pain through those insanely delicate fingertips as he bandaged him up, trying not to make contact, not to make a telepathic connection. He pretended none of it happened. Leonard tried not to care. He tried so damn hard, but every time he thought about it he felt like he was fighting back tears. And he hadn't cried since his daddy died. And he wasn't going to today.

And as a last resort, that stupid green elf had told him to think of Jim. Knowing he couldn't keep Leonard from hurting himself for his own sake, or the sake of the crew, he picked what he thought was the most important thing in his life - his captain. If something were to happen to Leonard, not only would Jim be upset, there would be no one to babysit him. And then where would they be after one more mission gone wrong and no one with the medical know-how to fix him?

The guilt trip certainly changed the doctor's mind, at least temporarily, but Leonard couldn't help but notice for such a smart guy, Spock sure was dumb. He had to be blind not to know. The one thing that could keep Leonard from ever doing anything stupid was one little request. It wasn't Jim he really wanted to keep happy. It was-

_Bump!_

Leonard suddenly swayed and bumped into the wall, grabbing at the panels to keep him steady. He looked around frantically for help, but the corridor was empty. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. His room was only a two doors down. He could make it if he was careful.

One step.

If only Spock would show s_ome_ sign of emotion. _Anything_ to let him know there was a living creature in there.

Two steps.

He pictured those dark brown eyes, staring down at him, lecturing him on his actions. _"You are not fine_," he had said. "_You are ill."_

Three steps.

It was a lot easier to imagine the concern in his voice now. Leonard pictured Spock sitting beside him then and speaking softly. _"Don't harm yourself, Leonard. Keep yourself safe. For me."_

Four steps.

For him. He'd have done it for him. If he'd only asked.

Five steps.

Leonard keyed in the code and stumbled through the door, dropping the medical supplies on the floor and immediately falling onto his bed.

If only he'd asked.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you everyone for your reviews! This chapter was difficult to write, so I tried to take some from personal experience. Please leave a review if you are interested in doing so! Vulcan translations are at the bottom.

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It was impossible to avoid him.

Leonard hadn't noticed that over the last few weeks he had gravitated toward Spock, trying to be near him on every mission, making extra trips to the bridge just to see him, starting up even more pointless arguments just for the interaction. Maybe he just hadn't been able to admit it before, but it was surprising how often he had really put effort into seeing the green-blooded bastard. And now that he was trying to avoid him at all costs, it was proving to be much more difficult than he'd anticipated.

Every time he was called to the bridge, Leonard knew he was going to be stuck in a spiral. Part of him was desperate to see Spock, to see if his greeting was any warmer or to make sure the Vulcan wasn't ignoring him altogether. Another part of him wanted to stay as far away as possible. He hadn't felt this way since he'd had a crush on a girl in high school. The thought of it was more shameful than he cared to admit. He didn't know what to do with himself.

"Bones." Jim's voice over the intercom stopped his pacing and he stared, eyebrow up, at the little red box on the wall. After a moment of thought, Leonard darted across Sickbay and hit the button to reply. "Uh..McCoy here."

"Bones, why aren't you up here? We are waiting for you to start the briefing."

Leonard blinked at the com and sighed. He couldn't shirk his responsibilities as CMO because of a stupid crush. He was being beyond ridiculous. "I'll be right up, Jim," he said, slamming a fist onto the tiny white button. He would be damned if this stupid situation was his downfall.

He glanced at his arm which was nearly healed. The incident had taken place four days prior, and Leonard hadn't seen Spock face to face since. The doctor had almost been able to convince himself that it was a simple mistake he'd made while he was drunk, but the little nagging of logic in the back of his mind constantly reminded him that it wasn't the case. Spock had been right; the incident was not just a bit too much to drink. The drinking was just a small part of the overall problem that Leonard was determined to avoid. And now he was called to the bridge and he had to sit in that briefing room and stare at that smug green face for an hour knowing that he was judging him so harshly and…

Thinking about it gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach and a familiar bout of nausea was creeping up on him. His heart started to pound faster. _Oh no. _He darted over to a mirror and looked at himself. What was this? He was covered in sweat, his heart was racing, his breathing was getting more and more shallow, and he felt as though the room was spinning out of control. He threw himself to the nearest work station and started to dig for a hypo that would slow his heart rate. How could this be happening? He hadn't had a panic attack since…the first time he used a transporter nearly five years ago.

Leonard stuck the hypo in his arm and grabbed onto the counter tightly with both hands, forcing himself to take deep breaths despite his body's determination for short frantic ones. In a few seconds, the hypo kicked in, and he was calming down again. This couldn't be happening.

Blue eyes blinked at him from inside the mirror, but he didn't recognize them. How could he be so weak? He was falling apart in every way possible and… When his heart started racing again he shoved those thoughts out of his mind. This was no time for a mental breakdown. He had places to be.

A minute later he was marching down the hall toward the turbo lift. All this business of mental weakness…he was Leonard H fucking McCoy, damn it. It was his responsibility to take care of the ship, not to have people needing to care for him. He was going to nip this thing in the bud before it took over his life.

And as he turned into the lift with a gruff, "Deck 12," he realized, with a sinking feeling, that he had sworn he'd do the exact same thing nearly two months ago.

In the briefing room, Leonard felt a little more at home. Things were all business up there. No one would be able to question him about his recent absence or his arm, which was covered by his long sleeved uniform as opposed to the short sleeved tunic he usually wore. With a polite nod to Scotty and Uhura, he made his way past them to his seat, next to Jim, and across from Spock.

Seeing the green bastard took any comfort that he was clinging to and had it dissipate in an instant. Spock didn't look up as Leonard entered the room, nor did he address him as he joined the crew at the table. Jim flashed him a charming smile, which Leonard did not return, and they began the briefing.

Whatever they were talking about, Leonard didn't give one single shit. Spock was leaning casually in his chair, one arm on his lap, the other on the table, long, delicate fingers twisting a stylus through them. After about two minutes of brooding and keeping his gaze on the table in front of him, those tired, blue eyes were focused on those fingers so intently an anti-matter combustion couldn't buy his attention. Those fingers were a prize. They were perfect, pristine, and the fastest gateway into Spock's soul and mind. It just wasn't fair that the only time they touched him he was passed out on the floor.

Leonard would be lying if he'd said he didn't think about everything that had happened that night. Though he wasn't conscious for any of it, Spock had come in, lifted Leonard off the floor, undressed him, dug through his drawers, found more clothing, washed him down with a towel that Leonard had later found in the bathroom, and then redressed him. If he had been conscious, there would have been no chance of his surviving about a minute of that activity without something horribly embarrassing happened. If it had gone his way, he would have been awake, and Spock would have been more than alright with something embarrassing...

"Bones!"

Leonard's attention was yanked back into the conversation so suddenly that he nearly jumped out of his chair.

"Are you alright? You look…tired."

The doctor shook his head as the shock of Jim's voice wore off. Glancing around the room he saw Scotty and Uhura looking at him with concern and Spock looking with…a surprising amount of interest.

"Tired…yea I'm just tired." He stood up, grumbling to himself. He muttered some words of apology and excused himself from the table without looking back at anyone else.

Maybe he was just too old for this shit. What the hell was he thinking sitting there fanaticizing about this damn pointy-eared goblin who he didn't even like? Maybe he was just too old and unstable to be taking care of himself and an entire four-hundred plus crew of reckless Starfleet officers. He stomped through the corridors and back into Sickbay, ignoring the worried, mother-hen stares from Nurse Chapel and locking himself immediately in his office. He sat on the chair with a groan and covered his face in his hands. With a deep breath, he slid low into his seat so his head was touching the back of his chair. He looked over to his desk where the picture of the curly-haired girl sat. Carefully, he picked it up.

"Oh, Joanna," he drawled, his voice staying very low. "I'm glad you can't see your daddy now." She would have been ashamed of him, if she could even recognize him. Her daddy had always been kind and brave and…all those other dreams babies had of their daddies. All those things she told him when she was young. He snickered at her photo, tears welling up behind his eyes. He would deny it though, every compliment she threw at him, and she'd always argue, saying she knew best and all that. "You sure do, baby girl," he muttered, putting the picture back down.

Suddenly, the door slid open and Leonard was more than shocked to see a rather tall, perfect-postured individual in the doorway.

"Spock, what are you doin' here?" He quickly wiped any remnants of tears from his eyes. How dare he walk in there like nothing was going on? After ignoring him for days and not giving one damn about-

"Doctor, I wish to speak to you about your condition." Without waiting for an answer, he stepped inside. The door slid shut behind him and he gave a command for it to lock.

"Now hold on just a minute!" Leonard choked as he jumped from his seat. "You cannot just march in here and take over my office!"

"I have no intention of doing so, Doctor, I just meant to give us a little privacy. Please, sit down."

Leonard opened his mouth to argue again, but he noticed that Spock's posture, though perfect as ever, was not his usual professional stance. He was being polite, as Vulcan's were trained to be, but his body language was deliberately choreographed to make sure Leonard was comfortable.

Surprising himself, Leonard sat down behind his desk. Spock took a seat opposite him and crossed one leg over the other. His perfect fingers folded together. Leonard's stare lingered.

"I have not had a proper chance to speak to you after our last encounter. It has been difficult due to our recent assignment and your constant effort to avoid me."

Leonard's eyes went wide. Could he just say something like that? Was that allowed?

"I wasn't-"

"Please do not attempt to lie to me, Doctor, I am well aware that you have been attempting to stay as far away from me as possible. You have been successful thus far, however I could not help but take notice of you during our meeting."

"Take notice of me? You ignored me completely!" Leonard gulped down his anger. He hadn't wanted to mention that. He wasn't supposed to care if Spock noticed him or not.

"That is not true. I was simply attempting to keep the atmosphere in the room as casual as possible so as not to disturb the other members of the crew."

Leonard shook his head, ripping his eyes away from his superior officer. In his dreams, Spock had come to him to comfort him and Leonard had spilled his guts, confessed everything and they had held one another and everything ended happily ever after.

Fat fucking chance.

"Listen, Spock, I appreciate the effort, but there's no need for us to talk. I was just going through a rough patch. I'm fine now." The exhaustion in his voice was obvious. His usually toned voice was thick and polluted with southern drawl and he cleared his throat harshly when the thought was finished. Spock waited calmly for him to quiet down before starting in on the last lecture Leonard ever wanted to hear.

"Doctor McCoy, you are depressed. You have a severe chemical imbalance in the brain and are dealing with emotional and mental responses that you are not fit to handle. In addition, signs of high anxiety and potential panic have been noted by both Nurse Chapel and myself. Seeing as you have now resolved to self-harm in order to deal with your emotional outbursts, I am declaring you unfit to see to your own health and take the responsibility of your mental well-being into my own hands."

For a moment, the office was so silent Leonard had thought he'd gone deaf. He blinked at Spock, his jaw slack, eyes sparkling on the verge of tears. This…was not fair. It just wasn't _fair._ Spock had no right, no damn right to come into his office and remove him from his medical post. He couldn't waltz into his life and tell him what to do. He couldn't tell him what illnesses he had, _he _was the goddamn doctor, not some fucking green-blooded, inconsiderate, good for nothing, god-ego, son of a bitch.

Leonard felt his face growing hot with anger. He wanted Spock to go. He needed to be alone and…God he couldn't feel anything but anger and see anything but red with a blur of pale green in his line of vision. He stood suddenly, his legs nearly giving out, hands balled into fists, arms shaking with anger, and let out a strangled sound that he didn't recognize as being from his own throat.

"Spock." He managed to spit the Vulcan's name, but that's all that could escape before everything collapsed.

Next thing he knew he was on his knees. His head was suddenly too heavy for him to hold and it hit the side of the desk with a _thump! _Tears were coming faster and harder than he could ever attempt to stop and sobs were shaking his entire body. He couldn't catch his breath and he knew that if he kept gasping for air he would hyperventilate before long.

He didn't want anyone to see him like this, let alone Spock. He was such a worthless human being. How was he expected to care for an entire ship of over four hundred people when he couldn't even care for himself? Four hundred men and women depended on him and he let every one of them down. He felt entirely insignificant and tried in vain to bury his face in his knees while his hands made their way to his hair and stuck there, tight fists tugging roughly at his temples.

And then, somehow, through the haze of self-hatred and nausea, he felt arms, like a furnace, surround him. "No...no I can't stand…" he wailed into his knees, but the arms were not pulling him up. They were embracing him. It took him a moment to realize what was happening, but suddenly he was able to calm down enough to register the situation.

When his sobbing had quieted and some of the feeling returned to him, Leonard could feel gentle hands tugging away his own. Soft fingers prodded into his temple and cheek and he felt a warm, comfortable, fuzzy feeling overtaking him. In the distance, he knew Spock was messing with his head, and he wanted to be angry, but the feeling of numbness was almost positive, and he hadn't felt warmth or comfort in a long time.

Reluctantly, he allowed exhaustion to crash over him like a wave and he leaned into the embrace. His face pressed up against something so hot and soft that he couldn't imagine anything in the world being so comfortable. After a few seconds, Leonard opened his eyes to see he was leaning against Spock's neck. His face blushed a deep red, but the embarrassment went away quickly when he realized the Vulcan still had a sturdy grip on him and his fingers were still pressed to Leonard's psi-points. It was then that he realized, for the first time, that Spock was talking. It was very quiet, almost too quiet for human hears, but the doctor could hear the comforting word rumble throughout the Vulcan's chest. He relaxed at the sound of Spock's voice, still unsure of what he was saying, when he suddenly realized - that wasn't English he was speaking, it was Vulcan.

"_Ben vahl navun. Ozhika, palik t'kau ri shaht. Sochya eh dif. Sochya. Sochya."_

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Translation for Vulcan:

_Ben vahl navun._ - Grant us success.

_Ozhika, palik t'kau ri shaht - _Logic, the beginning of wisdom, not the end.

_Sochya eh dif._ - Peace and long life.

_Sochya - _Peace.


	5. Chapter 5

A huge huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed. It is a huge help to me. I hope you are enjoying the story!

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Leonard stared hard at the ceiling in his quarters. Though he'd gone to bed in the middle of beta shift, a specific request made by the captain himself, he hadn't gotten one minute of sleep and it was nearly time for him to get up for the next day's alpha shift. There was no way he could calm himself down enough to get any rest, not when he was so bothered by the afternoon's events and knew what was awaiting him.

After the breakdown in his office, Leonard had managed to gather up the tiny shred of dignity he had left and pull himself from Spock's embrace. The green-blooded computer, not surprisingly, acted as if the entire incident had never happened and ordered Leonard to report to his quarters at 21:00 the next night so they could begin their mental training. Leonard had no choice but to comply unless he wanted to be thrown in the brig for directly denying orders.

He had then walked back to his quarters in an exhausted daze, stripped out of his uniform, and climbed into bed. The mesmerizing Vulcan lyric danced through his head over and over again. He had no idea what the words meant, but he couldn't help but feel comforted by them. For a few seconds, Spock had cared. He had put aside his damn Vulcan strictness, gotten on the floor, and held Leonard and whispered comforting Vulcan things into his ear and god d_amn_ it he liked it a lot.

He thought about the situation again and again, viewing it from every angle possible. As a doctor, he could see exactly what had happened. He'd had a panic attack. He couldn't breathe, his chest hurt, he began to hyperventilate, his heart was racing…it was probably better that Spock calmed him down than he used medication. It's always better to try and control it yourself, and he did. Now if he could only figure out why he'd started having panic attacks again, he would be golden.

As an individual, he could finally admit that he had been in denial. There was a problem that needed to be addressed. Though he was having some trouble believing that Spock wanted to take him on as a ward, he knew now that he needed someone's help. Seeing as his personality and profession never allowed for him to put himself first, it was a good thing his superior officer was the one offering to help.

He wasn't sure what sort of mental therapy Spock had been blabbing about, but he figured the elf was going to plop him down on a little rug and teach him to meditate. Seemed like a waste of time, but if it made all the anger and sadness go away it must not be all bad. There were plenty of reason that Leonard did not want to be sitting in Spock's quarters alone with him late at night, most of which happened to be the same reasons he _desperately _wanted to be sitting in Spock's quarters alone with him at night. He constantly had to remind himself that some fucking school-girl crush was never going to be a reality and he had to cut the shit before nine o'clock.

The intercom whistled and a familiar voice chimed from across the room. "Bones?" Leonard sighed and rolled out of bed, trudging across the floor in his underwear, swearing silently.

"McCoy here." His voice was rough and cracked.

"Were you asleep?"

Leonard rolled his eyes. "What is it Jim?"

"Bones, I checked in with sickbay just a few moments ago…it's empty and Chapel says they've got everything under control. I want you to go back to bed. Take the day off."

Suddenly, he was entirely alert. "The day off? No. No way."

"Bones, you're drained. You need to take some time for yourself. Please just…do this for me?" The captain's voice had lowered to a whisper. He was probably calling from the bridge and here they were making a scene.

"Fine." He slammed a fist onto the comm, disconnecting himself from the captain. "God damn it, Jim," he mumbled as he slid back into bed.

Now he had to deal with the embarrassment of having a babysitter - first Spock, then Christine, and now Jim. The entire ship was going to think Leonard had gone off the deep end. Just some crazy old man who's gone weak with age, they'd say. He was worthless. No good at being a doctor if he couldn't take care of patients. What else was he good for? Nothing. After a few moments of staring at the ceiling he knew there was no way he was going to sleep. A shaking hand reached out to the bedside table and snatched a bottle of red pills. He scooped out a small handful and swallowed them down. That should knock him out. He rolled over, burying his face in a pillow, and silently cried and cursed the ergonomic pillows for being specially designed to let air reach his face.

A few hours later, Leonard woke up in his dark room. He rolled onto his side groggily and croaked out for the computer to tell him the time. 20:30. He groaned loudly and slid from his covers. His undergarments dropped to the floor and he climbed into the shower.

How was he going to deal with Spock? The very thought of his commanding officer made him nauseous. He lathered up an unnecessary amount of shampoo and scrubbed it into his hair hard enough that he felt the heat rising from his scalp. If he hid in the shower he could say he felt sick. Spock would understand…but he would just request his presence again the next day. And the next day. And every day until the god damn five year mission was over. Leonard sighed as he let the water push hair down over his face. He couldn't escape.

Ten minutes later he was outside of Spock's door, hair still damp, same grumpy expression on his face. He rang the chime and the door opened immediately to present a very proper looking Vulcan wearing traditional, black Vulcan robes. Leonard's eyebrow perked up to his hairline. "What's with the get up?" he asked. He was answered by a step back and an extended hand to invite into the room.

He'd only ever been in Spock's quarters once before and they were exactly as he had remembered them. They were hot, upwards of ninety degrees Fahrenheit, and the lights were dim. It reminded Leonard of the planet Vulcan. There were even the same shades of red mixed into the room by tapestries and ceremonial statues scattered about the room.

"Please have a seat, Doctor," Spock said stoically, waving a hand toward a mat on the floor before an altar. Leonard hesitated, but sat down, crossing his legs Indian style. He watched silently as Spock sat across from him. Leonard had never seen him out of uniform before and something about it was comforting, as if he had a real personality behind that perfect Starfleet record.

"Tonight we are going to attempt to teach you mental discipline. In many instances, this is the most effective tool in rebuilding endurance and stability after a traumatic event."

"I haven't gone through any damn traumatic event!" Leonard spat, his face growing red with frustration. The heat in the room was getting to him now and he could feel little drips of sweat roll down the back of his neck onto his uniform.

"To repair and prevent damage from anxiety, the same measures are taken. I will help you to build mental barriers so that you are better able to control your emotions."

"I'm not a damn school girl, Spock!" Leonard wiped some of the sweat from his head. "I'm a grown man, I can control myself."

"Evidently not," Spock answered calmly.

"God damn it Spock! I can control myself and why is it so damn hot in this room?!"

"Computer," the level of Spock's voice remained the same. "Reduce temperature by ten degrees Fahrenheit." Leonard could feel himself cooling off immediately.

"You have tried your way, Doctor, and it has failed. If you want to be healthy again, I suggest you allow me to help." The doctor swore he almost heard a bit of emotion behind those words. A little bit of Vulcan annoyance mixed with a little bit of Vulcan desperacy.

He grumbled to himself and crossed his arms over his chest - a sign that he was giving up and Spock could do whatever he liked. He would be along for the ride, but he wasn't going to like it.

"Let us begin."

If those words didn't make Leonard's heart sink right down to his stomach, Spock's hands reaching toward his face sure did.

"HEY! Hey, what are you doing?!" Leonard unfolded his arms and rocked back onto his hands to get as far away from Spock without moving. He wasn't told there was going to be touching involved in this.

"I am initiating the meld."

"MELD?! No. No way you are going in my head." Drugs were one thing, meditation was another, but there was no way Spock was going into his head. He would see every thought Leonard has ever had, all the feelings directed toward him, all the lonely nights and dirty thoughts, all the guilty touches in the dark…

"Doctor, you need my assistance. I am no longer going to tolerate your stalling."

Leonard's voice suddenly changed to a pathetic, pleading tone that he barely recognized. "Spock…please…no. You can't. You can't go into my mind I-"

"Doctor I will not judge you on anything I see there. Vulcan's are unable to be prejudiced against any individual because of their thoughts or feelings. Now, please allow me to initiate the meld."

Leonard sighed and leaned forward again. His heart was beating a million miles a minute. He closed his eyes and waited for it to hit him. Spock's hand landed on his face so gently that, for a moment, he was unsure if it were real or not. For ten of the longest seconds of his life, nothing happened, and then it hit him. There was a presence in his mind, a faint buzzing far off, at first, but it grew stronger. And suddenly Spock was with him in a way he could not describe.

He was being very polite about the whole ordeal too. He remained in the forefront of Leonard's consciousness so as not to delve into any of his thoughts. Surprisingly, the doctor knew exactly what Spock could feel or see, but was unable to feel anything of Spock himself.

_That is because you are unable to reciprocate any telepathic connection, _Spock said to him. Leonard nearly pulled away for a moment. Spock was able to speak to him through the meld?

_I am able to do this, Doctor. You are not, as of yet, but there is no need for you to answer me._

Well fine then, he thought, giving a small grunt in response. If Spock was just going to use him for his brain, then let him have it.

_Are you prepared to begin the exercise?_

Leonard nodded slowly and gasped very quietly as he felt Spock push into his mind.

And suddenly everything was a runaway train.

Every panicked moment, every hot-blooded argument, every Starfleet report, teeth brushing, shower, meal, conversation with Jim, drink with Scotty, physical examination, masturbation, paperwork, away mission, and chess game flooded into Spock with more power than a tidal wave. Leonard tried to pull back, but had absolutely no knowledge of how to do anything, so he sat there and waited nervously for Spock to communicate with him again.

Then, without warning, one familiar feeling was pulled to the front. Not voluntarily, by either party, but just by habit. It was the warm feeling Leonard got when Spock paid him attention, no matter how small or insignificant. It was the thrill he got out of brushing against the Vulcan's overheated arm on the bridge. It was the happiness in his heart when Spock survived an away mission mostly unscathed. It was the overjoyed feeling that Leonard had the past two days when he recalled those Vulcan words being spilled from those perfect lips.

He didn't think it was possible, but he felt Spock tense up beside him. For one horrible minute, the two of them felt the same emotion, saw the same images of the Vulcan officer. Spock knew how Leonard felt now and there was absolutely no hiding it.

He wasn't sure what to do and Spock wasn't answering or moving. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn't seem to work his mouth. The longer the images remained in his head, the hotter his face and neck felt, and the more nauseous he got. Suddenly, without warning, Spock's hand was gone from his face and his presence was gone from his mind.

The room was deathly quiet and he realized for the first time that the blood rushing through his ears had sounded like an avalanche. Now that he was alone with his thoughts, his heart was calming down. Carefully, he peeked one eye open and then the other. Through the darkness he could see Spock, eyebrows raised, brown eyes glossy, with a deep green blush on his cheeks. Leonard could throw up at the sight of it.

"Spock, I'm really sorry. I didn't-"

"There is no need for apologies, Doctor."

He wanted to argue, to tell him that of course there were needs for apologies. He made a Vulcan blush, something he didn't even know was possible. But Spock's voice was so broken that all he could do was snap his jaw shut and wait.

"Look, I should just go…"

"No." Spock's hand shot out and grabbed Leonard's wrist. The doctor froze, his blue eyes wide and locked on Spock's face looking for any trace of emotion. "I was not expecting to see such things from you, Doctor, but-"

"Leonard."

"I beg your pardon?"

"My name is Leonard. I think after seeing that you can call me by my name."

Spock hesitated for a moment then continued slowly, as if he were having trouble choosing his words. "_Leonard, _it was unexpected, but there is no reason for you to feel guilt. It is illogical to apologize for something over which you have no control. Your feelings for me are not by choice and instead of trying to change the situation, it is most logical to deal with what we are given."

Leonard blinked a few times. What was he saying? Was he suggesting that they roll with it? Was this his way of accepting a sort of proposal? If this was as forward as Spock was going to be about it, then this might be his only chance to act.

Without another thought, Leonard tugged his arm harshly, pulling Spock forward. In one not-so-graceful movement, he managed to have their lips collide in a very awkward, very uncomfortable kiss.

Neither of them moved for a while, getting over the shock of what was happening, then, very slowly, Leonard opened his mouth against the Vulcan's and allowed himself a taste. Spock did not reciprocate, which wasn't entirely surprising, but Leonard had jumped in too far now, he couldn't back out. After it was over, he was going to die of embarrassment, so why not go all out before it was over?

Spock's lips were burning hot, like the rest of him, and soft, like his neck had been the previous day. They tasted like the Vulcan smelled - a mixture of soap and his own, unique man-scent. He sharply inhaled, allowing his nose to be filled with it before poking his tongue out and gently gliding along Spock's lower lip.

After a while, he came out of his trance and realized Spock still had not moved a fraction of an inch, and he reluctantly pulled away. His superior officer was sprawled in the most awkward position, one elbow on the ground, the other arm trapped in Leonard's grasp, and one knee pointed toward the ceiling. Suddenly mortified with what he'd done, he jumped up, allowing Spock to fall the rest of the way to the ground. He watched him for a moment, desperately wishing for words to form, but when panic started to set in and tears formed, he knew there was no point in trying. Without another word he stepped around the altar and rushed out the door.


	6. Chapter 6

Hey, here's a chapter! Cliff hanger cause I was in kind of a rush and promised to get a chapter out tonight! Enjoy!

* * *

Running was probably the wrong thing to do.

As soon as he got back into his room, he collapsed in a nearby chair, gasping for breath. He was too old to go sprinting around the ship like that and too old to be kissing his superior officers like a frisky little school boy. Leonard tilted his head back and stared at the dark ceiling of his quarters. I wasn't as if he could escape Spock. He'd tried for weeks and it hadn't stopped anything. There was a good chance the goblin would leave him alone for the night though. It was obvious that the doctor was in a very intense emotional state, and Spock didn't like to be around people when they were in such a condition. On the other hand, the commander seemed to be taking a particular interest in Leonard's health and mental well-being and his Vulcan concern might drive him right down the hall to check on the poor bastard.

Leonard sat up. He didn't want to see Spock. In fact, he was so terrified that Spock was going to come down the hall he wasn't even taking time to process what had just happened. Instead, he hopped up and began pacing the room.

He had just kissed Spock. Just imagining that seemed absolutely unreal to him. The feeling of those heated lips still tingled on the doctor's mouth and a thought passed his mind that he may be the only person in history to have ever kissed the elf. This made him stop dead in his tracks. He was enjoying that thought far too much. He was the only one to touch him like that. For a Vulcan…that was a huge deal wasn't it? He knew physical connections were nearly sacred to them. A kiss like that…what did that mean for Spock?

The door chime rang.

"Go away, Spock!" he snarled before he could catch his voice. There was silence for a moment before the calculated response.

"Doctor, it would be wise to speak about this." His voice remained low to respect their privacy. Leonard would have noticed this detailed if he hadn't just heard that damned title again. Before he could stop himself, he was across the room and jamming a finger into the door button. As soon as it swung open, he barked into Spock's face.

"How dare you come here, you hard-hearted computer?! After what just happened in there, what you saw, and what we just _did_, you still won't address me by my goddamn name! I don't wanna talk to you, Spock. Go back to your room and leave me the hell alone."

They stared at one another for a moment. Leonard could feel the heat in his face and wasn't trying to slow his breathing. He was angry and he wanted Spock to know it. He hoped it would scare the devil away, but he knew it wouldn't. Spock was never intimidated by the doctor and even less so when he was fired up. Instead of leaving, however, which Leonard had assumed he would, Spock stepped past him into the room, still remaining silent.

"NO. No, get out of my room right now. I don't want you here damn it, Spock, LEAVE."

"You cannot ignore me, Leonard-"

"Like HELL I can't!"

Spock remained stoical. The door slid shut behind Leonard and he remained still, chest heaving up and down in frustration, face twisted into a nasty scowl.

"What are you afraid of, Leonard?"

"Afraid of! Nothing! I'm not afraid of anything!"

"Then why are you angry?"

"I'm angry because-" He stopped suddenly. Why was he angry? Because Spock hadn't called him by his name? It was annoying, considering they'd just shared a somewhat intimate moment, but that's not why flames were shooting from his mouth. Why w_as _he angry?

He was mortified. He had shown how weak he was and he'd revealed feelings to the emotionless man without having any way to protect himself. He was broken and upset and on top of his constant sadness and lack of passion for a_nything_ he had to now deal with losing the only person worth caring about.

With a much softer voice, and a look of shame on his face, he said "I'm angry because I…I'm embarrassed, Spock, I…well you wouldn't understand. It's a human thing. We don't like having our emotions out there for everyone to see. Especially not when we have…certain emotions for certain people and those people see and don't…respond."

Spock continued watching him. Leonard's eyes were glued to the floor, but he burned under Spock's gaze like a fire and found himself shrinking a little until the Vulcan spoke.

"Of course I understand," he said, his words as deliberate as ever. "Vulcan emotions are just as strong as human emotions, stronger even. It is humiliating for us to reveal our feelings to someone else. I understand exactly how you feel." Leonard slowly looked up to meet Spock's eyes. "And the reason I did not reciprocate," the Vulcan continued. "Was because I was unsure how."

Leonard blinked at him. Unsure how? As in he didn't know how to react to the situation? Of course not, he was probably confused out of his wits. A sudden expectant eyebrow perk and a little shy tilt of Spock's head told him differently. He didn't know how to kiss.

"You mean…you…didn't know how to physically respond to…what I did?"

"Correct. I have never experienced that sort of thing and I was unable to reciprocate appropriately. I thought it better to allow you to lead."

Leonard blinked at him. "Do you mean to tell me that you didn't mind me kissing you?"

Spock's eyebrow again shot toward his hairline. "On the contrary, Leonard, I have been expecting it for quite some time and had become slightly accustomed to the idea."

For a moment, the room was completely silent. It wasn't the terrifying silence that had occurred before, but just a peaceful one that almost brought relief. Leonard wasn't sure what to say. He tried desperately to sort out his thoughts before continuing.

"You seemed so shocked when you saw my thoughts though…" he said weakly.

"I was not _shocked_. Nor did I seem to be. I believe my exact words were that it was "unexpected". And it was. I speculated that you had romantic feelings for me by the way you were behaving, but it is much different delving into your personal thoughts first hand."

He had a point. Even if you really knew a person, it's very different being inside their head for the first time, or so he imagined.

"Well, how come you didn't mention it before?"

"I didn't think it was very important."

"Were you afraid of me?"

"No."

"You ah…said you've grown accustomed to the idea?"

"I have. You would make a fine mate."

"Mate…woah. Hang on their bucko, that's…a big thing you just said."

Mate…he had forgotten that Vulcan's only take life mates. There was no casual dating scene for them. It did more than a little bit for his ego though, having Spock tell him he could spend the rest of his life with the good doctor. At the very least, he would have expected Spock to go after a woman. Taking a man as a mate is illogical. You can't make little Vulcan's with two daddies.

"I am merely sharing my opinion with you. I do believe it would be illogical to join with you, but in my past I have been given advice that would suggest otherwise."

"And what is that?"

"What is right is not always logical."


End file.
